Random Bits Of My Writing
by AmazonTrudy
Summary: What the title says.
1. Chapter 1

"Of course they have a fucking dungeon" Amazon muttered, eyes downcast.

It was supposed to be an easy case. A simple slip in-slip out; grab some papers and leave. Amazon should have known it wouldn't be that easy. It never was.

"So Red" a man entered the room, American accent clear, "You plannin' on tellin' us exactly who sent you?"

Amazon remained silent.

"Look, you're a pretty thing and I don' really wanna hurt you unless I gotta. But I do have order's an' if you ain't gonna talk, it's my job to make ya'" he explained. His words suggested he might be slightly compassionate towards her situation but Amazon knew better.

She knew gangs like this and they didn't have the morals to feel sympathy let alone compassion.

"I guess we're gon' be starting now then" he declared, any trace of care gone from his voice.

The first kick came right below her ribs, the impact creating a resounding fleshy 'thunk'. Amazon grimaced but otherwise remained quiet. It was never a smart move to give away your medical condition, even when it was evidently bad.

The second came slightly lower- harder too- landing square on her stomach, the force causing her to wretch and throw up its contents.

"Shit" exclaimed douche numero uno- as Amazon had named him in her head- stepping back from her to fully observe the mess.

Douche numero uno looked a mix between pissed and disgusted, "Bitch just spewed all over the place!"

Okay, definitely pissed.

Douche numero dos- Amazon really needed better nicknames- looked relatively amused at the situation, though it was quickly smothered at his partner's expression. Amazon supposed douche numero uno was the 'leader' of the two.

Her brief moment of peace was quickly ruined by rough hands grabbed at the collar of her shirt, hoisting her up to eye level. Of course, eye level for douche numero uno was a good 4-5 inches above hers, leaving her feet to kick uselessly in a futile attempt to find solid ground. Her hands clawed desperately for some kind of grip on the ones holding her shirt, preventing her from being choked fully.

Obviously noticing this, douche numero uno lowered her ever so slightly. Just enough for the balls of her feet to brush the ground, but not fully rest there, leaving her at the mercy of the hands holding her up for support. It was a cheap and pityingly dirty move in her opinion.

"Any chance of you tellin' us who ya' workin' for yet?" numero uno asked, only a breath away from becoming snarling.

Amazon took her time in dragging her eyes up to meet his, clearing her throat and rolling her shoulders- as much as she was able- before speaking.

"G-Go" she let out a rasping cough, "Fuck yourselves" she finished, spitting at the man's face in the only act of defiance of which she was capable.

Douche numero uno made a noise not unlike a growl and released his grip, leaving her to fall to the ground with a solid 'thunk', hands grappling in vain for purchase on something- anything

"Should'a just co-operated with us Red, this could'a been a Hell of a lot less painful for ya'" Douche numero uno wiped his cheek.

"You could'a even spent the night in one 'a our beds had ya' of just given up a name" he gave an indifferent shrug, "Your loss".

The booted heel made a sickening crack as it came into contact with her left side, right into her ribs. Amazon felt a sharp pain as she inhaled and knew at least one of them had to be cracked, possibly broken.

After that, the hits came in quicker succession. Amazon couldn't really tell where one finished and another came, only that there was a growing mess of red appearing on the floor.

"You can still get outta this if ya just co-operate with us Red" douche numero dos stood above her, arms crossed impassively, standing back for the meantime whilst numero uno had his shot. 'Definitely a bottom' her mind quipped. At least she could still _think_ insulting thoughts. That was something.

"No?" douche numero dos answered for her, clearly aware of her inability to speak and not at all opposed to mocking her for it.

She curled up slightly, awaiting the next blow... but it never came.

"What _the Hell_ is going on?" yelled douche numero uno.

One of his lackeys ran to the door, gun drawn. Amazon concluded there must be another person infiltrating the building, one far less temperate than herself.

"There appears to be another spy, Sir" came the response. If Amazon had it in her right now to be amused she would've been. 'Spy' was a common misconception for her job, even though the differences were more numerous than that of politicians and bakers.

Douche numero uno sighed, a heavy sound meant clearly to show his exasperation with the situation not just to himself but everyone present.

"And I was _so, close,_ to breaking her too" he looked almost disappointed, an expression that made Amazon thankful the mysterious 'spy' had appeared.

Douche numero uno and dos both left together, numero uno giving her another kick on his way out. A silent form of communication Amazon knew all too clearly as 'We're not finished here'.

Deciding to take the short break for what it was, Amazon turned her body around until her left side lay flat along the ground, a position somewhat akin to the 'recovery position' used in basic first aid.

It's not like she could do anything else given her condition.

It was only now, in the relative silence, that Amazon could fully take account of her injuries. She dejectedly realised a concussion was probably one of them as her vision drifted in and out of focus and her mind became foggy. At least it numbed her reality enough to make this seem kind of like a bad dream.

A really, really painful bad dream.

She was brought back to reality by the sound of voices coming from outside the room, though that could just be the ringing in her ears.

"`Tchyo za ga`lima?"

Even to Amazon's half-conscious mind she could tell the words weren't English. The vowels were rounded and the tone flat, almost like... Russian...

'Faulkner', Amazon's brain supplied. She would've laughed had she the physical capability to. Even in her last moments she couldn't keep him out of her thoughts.

The door opened, the creaking sounding impossibly loud with the probable concussion she had.

"B'lyad!" Roman's alarmed voice rang out loud, a likely side effect of her concussion. She also realized he was still speaking in Russian, a habit he had developed in rough situations.

"Holy derr'mo Amazon. You look like shit"

She mustered up the best smile she could, though it came out as more of a strangled grimace from the pain.

"You-" she coughed, spitting a worrying amount of blood up, "Really know how to fla-flatter a girl Fau-Faulkner".

"No, no, nononono" Roman rushed to her side and dropped to his knees, cradling her as best as he could without causing further damage.

"Oh God" Roman was shaking now, shoulders convulsing with sharp, hard breaths bordering on sobs. At any other time Amazon would have taken this as proof of the man's affections, now though, she could only feel painfully guilty.

"We need to get you out of here" Roman tried moving her only to stop as she let out a cry of pain at the shift, body protesting to the movement.

"N-no. You g-go, I'm no-not gonna m-make it any-anyways" Amazon attempted to give a comforting smile but the effect was lost to the mass of blood on her face, matting her hair and staining her shirt.

"Fuck that" Faulkner said abruptly, if not a little too loud in Amazon's opinion. It was kind of like having a hangover, times 9000.

"You are _not_ pulling that martyr shit on me. Not here, not today, Hell, not _ever_ if I have any say about it" Roman stated, determined to get both of them out. And if he couldn't, he certainly wasn't leaving her. He'd grown attached to the over-zealous detective, more than he'd like to admit.

"You're going to be fine, we're gonna fix this" Roman affirmed, though it sounded more like false reassurance to himself than Amazon.

Amazons expression turned serious, "Y-you know tha-that's not gonna h-happen ri-right?"

"I don't care!" Roman was borderline-distraught now. There was no way in all the seven Hells he was letting her go.

"Di-Did anyone e-ever tell y-you, you're stu-stupidly s-s-stubborn?" Amazon smiled fondly. She could feel what little consciousness she had slipping.

And well, she didn't know if she was going to wake up this time.

Roman let out a choked-off sob, though he couldn't stop the small- if not sad- smile that came to his face, "It's come to attention a few times".

Amazon didn't manage to catch what was said after that as her consciousness had already begun to fade, black crawling its way around the edges of her vision. It was almost a blessing at this point; the pain was becoming a little too much for even her to bear.

The last thing she processed was Roman's face above hers, mouth forming something along the lines of 'colourful'. She couldn't really tell.

Amazon came-to in a blur of colour and noise.

She bolted upright and the overload of sensation before realizing just how much of a mistake it was and letting out a pained cry at the movement.

"Fuck. Don't move, stay there. Shit." Roman's alarmed and slightly panicked voice appeared from somewhere to the right.

Amazon let out a long groan in response. Words seemed too hard to form right now. She tried once again to move into a somewhat-upright position only to feel something tugging at the skin on her side, sparking pain along it.

"Nononono, don't move. For fucks sake stay sTILL AMAZON" Roman's voice rose at the end, causing her to stop her attempts at standing.

Roman ran a shaky hand through his hair, "You have stiches in three places, it's a shit job but I couldn't get you to a hospital and you would've bled out. Now _please_ stay still or you're going to tear them out"

Amazon looked around at the room she was in, not that it had changed a lot since she was last conscious. Well, actually, come to think of it, there were about four more corpses present. She blatantly realized Roman must have caused the scene in front of her. Christ, she could barely make out their faces with all the blood.

"What in God's mighty name happened here?" she rasped. Damn, she needed some water _bad._

Roman looked around the room at clearly mutilated corpses, looking somewhat penitent, "I thought they'd killed you... I kinda... lost my temper?"

"Is that a que-question or a statement?" Amazon was still a little shocked at the amount of blood present. Not that she had issues with it, she'd just never seen Roman any more than calculated and efficient with violence.

"Uh, both?"

"M'kay"


	2. Chapter 2

"Why is he bleeding?" Amazon asked, tilting her head at the man.

"Because he's an idiot" Roman replied briskly.

Amazon frowned, though she knew where this was going. "Uh, last I checked idiocy didn't cause people to spontaneously start bleeding from the nose"

"I hear it's a new phenomenon"

"I told you we should've asked for directions"

"Who the hell was I supposed to ask? The _corpses_?"

"Watch that big heart of yours, Roman, keep it beating longer"

"Just gotta get you riled up huh?" she teased, "All prim-and-proper 'til someone challenges you."

Roman remained impassive, "I am not responding to that"

"You will if I say you _can't_ " Amazon grinned.

"Y'know, I'm not quite 'all that' they describe in the papers"

"'Highly intelligent', 'masterful sleuth'- oh oH OH! This one's my favourite!" Amazon shot him a look that would've sent a lesser man running. Faulkner of course wasn't even slightly fazed.

"'Public hero', oh my God. It makes you sound like a fricken' superhero or something"

"How about you take that newspaper of yours and shove it up your-"

"LANGUAGE!"

"I didn't even _say anything_ "

"You were going to say it" Roman reasoned.

"That makes you just as bad as me! Your mind was thinking it too" Amazon pointed an accusing finger at him.

"That is the most childish and yet logical argument I think I've ever heard"

"Just to be sure we're on the same page here-"

" _Same page_? We're not even in the same _goddamn library_ "

"Okay, that was completely and unnecessarily rude"

"Don't you dare try and talk to me about 'rude' Mr. I'll-Just-Betray-The-One-Person-Who's-Actually-Honest"

"Now you're just being ridiculous"

"Welcome to my life"

"Why don't you like me?"

"I'm trying. You're just making it very hard"

"You-You _manipulated_ me!"

"I like to call it 'outcome engineering' but essentially... yes"

"You know- You know this is an enemy covert base of operations right?"

"Yeah. Does that question have a purpose?"

"You're making pancakes" Roman says, stating the words slowly.

"Once again, yes. Does that question also have no purpose?"

"Of course it has a bloody _purpose_. We're in _enemy_ territory- possibly surrounded by _enemy_ agents and you're making _bloody pancakes._ I didn't even know these places had kitchens!"

Amazon was silent for about 20 seconds before moving to continue flipping the pancake she was currently cooking onto a plate. Roman didn't even want to know where she'd got it from.

"Did 'ya want one?" she asked dryly.

"Of course I want one"

"I've lost count of the promises I've broken for you, you know"

"Oh, I thought you only broke promises you'd made _to me_. My mistake"


	3. Chapter 3

"Tell me, Roman, do you ever regret meeting me?"

Roman actually laughed, "I can't imagine why you'd ask me that"

Amazon deadpanned him, though it was hidden by the darkness.

Roman continued, answering seriously, "Truly, though. Despite the circumstances, I wouldn't consider you a negative force in my life. In actuality, I'd probably be in the same position I am now even without you. Difference is, I wouldn't have company"

"You're handcuffed, in the boot of an out-of-service taxi, forced in cramped quarters with _me_ of all people. Roman, you're like 6'3, this _cannot_ be an enjoyable experience for you" Amazon stated slowly, as if the situation possibly hadn't quite sunk in yet for him.

"But it's an entertaining one, no?" Roman's smirk was audible as he added, "Plus, if I had to be pressed up against anyone... let's just say you're hardly uncomfortable"

Amazon went to smack him but unfortunately the handcuffs didn't budge. She settled for the next best thing.

"Okay, okay! Give me some room to breathe, Christ" Roman huffed as Amazon wriggled down closer, purposely stretching her legs out to take up 70% of the free space left in the small taxi's boot. It was relatively silent, save for the squeaking of tires, taking... an odd amount of turns.

"They're driving in circles" Amazon stated dumbly, "I can't tell where we're going"

"Hmm?" Roman came back from whatever spaced-out daydream he was in, "Oh, yeah. I know where they're going already though"

"You wHAT!?" Amazon screeched. A shout of "Hey, keep in down in there!' came from what she assumed was the passenger seat, sound slightly muffled from the obstruction. She didn't pay it any mind, choosing rather to grill Roman.

" _Why didn't you say something?_ " she hissed.

Roman let out a disgruntled puff of air, " _It's not exactly show-and-tell conversation material, is it?"_

 _"_ _Sometimes I swear-_ " The car stopped. "- _Oh shit"._ The boot opened with a strong swing, banging against the hinges, the sharp sting of the sun's return temporarily disorienting them both. Strong hands grabbed at Amazons arms, hoisting her out of the boot roughly.

"Hey, careful with the valuables guys" she quipped.

"Shut it, lady" a bearded man with messy brown hair groused, continuing to grab Roman, throwing him on the ground next to the redhead.

"Geez, that must be painful" Amazon cringed. The brunet stopped, confused.

"Y'know, that giant stick up your ass"

The brunet growled, turning as if to advance on her before a blonde man dressed in a sharp white suit stepped out of another car, holding up a hand in a strangely pacifying manner. The man- leader, she assumed- simply rolled his eyes, "Bring them over to the control room...and gag this one whilst you're at it".

Amazon went to object.

"Hey! I do my damnest to ma- mmphf" a rough hand found its way around her throat, causing her to gasp in shock- an action which left no resistance to the strip of cloth shoved between her teeth and tied harshly behind her head. She glared at Sir-Douche-A-Lot, her new completely valid name for the brown haired asswipe who was taking _way too much_ pleasure in her silencing.

"Oh thank God, you've no idea how glad I am you did that" Roman's traitorous voice came across, slightly amused, slightly smug. Amazon considered the pros and cons of kicking Sir-Douche-A-Lot at him. Once again, she settled for the most scathing glare she was capable.

Roman noticed.

"Aww, come on Amazon. You knew it was going to happen eventually" he reasoned, voice playful.

Amazon made a muffled, "Mmrmmph", in indignation. Roman translated it loosely to be some derivative of 'Screw you', likely with many-a colourful expletive.

" _Well_ " the blond gave an arrogant smirk, "As much as I'd _love_ to hear the end of this _wonderful_ conversation, I do have places to be and things to do, so you'll understand if I want to hurry this along just a little"

"Completely" Roman rejoined cheerily, though his tone was clipped.

The blond- damn, Amazon still needed a name for him- Rich-British-Fuck, no, Cocky-McPerfectHair, nonono, _Posh-Villain-Trope_ smiled, though there was no warmth in it, " _Perfect_ "

Amazon gave Roman a look she hoped came across as, 'What the Hell do we do now?'

Judging by his raised shoulders and scrunched up expression she gathered his response was a very big 'No fucking clue'. ' _Classic Roman_ ', she thought dryly, 'useless as always'.

She tipped her head towards Sir-Douche-A-Lot and then to Roman, widening her eyes for effect. He gave back a slow nod and smiled and she prayed he'd gotten the right message. There'd be nothing worse than jumping on the same guy and making this a bigger mess than it already was.

Counting down with her fingers, Amazon mentally thanked the Gods of Chance for the convenient way she was angled to where Roman could see her hands but not the two criminals. If Posh-Villain-Trope noticed, he certainly didn't make any move to stop them as she reached one.

Unfortunately, Amazon's life wasn't a shitty American action movie and thus nothing got slowed down for ease-of-viewing. Roman sprung up at the same time she swung out her legs, catching Posh-Villain-Trope in the shins and bringing him down at the same time she pushed back onto her hands- awkwardly with the cuffs- before springing up to stand.

Looking to her left, Amazon saw Sir-Douche-A-Lot groaning on the ground, a sight she'd treasure forever. Roman stepped backwards over his cuffs, holding them out in front of him in a universal gesture of 'What now?'

Amazon was about to respond when Roman suddenly froze and she heard the familiar ' _click, click'_ of a gun cocking.

Goddamnit.

Posh-Villain-Trope had recovered faster than she'd expected, and apparently drawn his gun quicker too. Cold metal dug into her right temple and _yep, that was definitely the muzzle of a gun._ A hand secured itself around the chain between the cuffs, still around her wrists and _still_ behind her back.

Posh-Villain-Trope gave a sharp tug to the chain, "Well, well, well. That was a cute little moment of bravery, wasn't it?"

Amazon was seriously starting to loathe the piece of cloth stopping her from letting loose the insults and comments she really, _really,_ wanted to voice. Then again, maybe that was for the better, who knows how much _more_ shit she'd get herself into.

If there was one thing Amazon could do without fail it was make bad situations worse.

"You're not going to shoot her" Roman said slowly, not a question, nor a hope, a statement. Amazon knew he wasn't one to make false claims, she just hoped he knew how to back this one up.

Posh-Villain-Trope's lips quirked up, amused, "Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is. If you were planning on killing her, you would've done it already" Roman stood steady, looking remarkably confident for a man in cuffs.

"Oh, you meant _fatally_ " Posh-Villain-Trope exclaimed as if he'd just gotten in on the joke others already understood. He grinned maliciously, a sign Amazon knew meant nothing good, "That's fine then. I'll just shoot somewhere unimportant"

Amazon swallowed.

"So, which limb do you _not_ need? There are some very advanced prosthetics in the leg department now, probably easier to source than a working hand" Posh-Villain-Trope paused, a look of contemplation crossed his face, "Then again, I don't have to shoot anything off _right now._ How about we settle for a broken bone, hmm?"

"You're _sick_ " Roman spat. Amazon could tell he wished he were in her place, though she couldn't blame him. She'd want the exact same thing should the circumstances have been switched.

The blonde wasn't even slightly fazed.

"No, but you are. Love-sick that is". Roman paled, Posh-Villain-Trope jumped at the opportunity, "Oh, don't be like that. If it's any consolation I'm almost completely sure your little detective returns the affection."

Amazon bucked, the movement pulling her from Posh-Villain-Trope's grip. Unfortunately, her attempt only succeeding in buying her a few moments of freedom before the sharp muzzle of the gun pistol-whipped her into the ground.

At any other time, her reflexes would've kicked in and stopped her falling but this time, cuffs were present and did nothing to help her falling face-down onto the dirt.

How utterly dignifying.

Roman looked as if he wanted to move to help but stilled at Sophisticated-Asswipe's, "Don't even consider it". Amazon contented herself with imagining all the creative ways she could wipe that satisfied, conceited smirk off of his face.

"What the fuck do you even _want_?" Roman snapped, eyes flicking from Amazon to Sophisticated-Asswipe and back again.

" _Language_ " Sophisticated-Asswipe reprimanded, shaking a finger in mock-disappointment. "And to answer your question, nothing. My orders were to kill this one-", he gestured to Amazon, "-and take out you if necessary. How I carried out such a task was completely up to my discretion".

He gave a nonchalant shrug, "You can't blame me for wanting to have a little fun. Now though, it seems you're becoming more of a bother than anything."

"Awfully sorry for not being perfectly complacent in _my own death_ " Roman snarled.

Arrogant-Dickwad simply smiled, tilting his head in a denigrating manner as if trying to comprehend how the rest of the Universe could be so plebeian compared to him. It made Amazon's blood boil. Oh, she was definitely going to enjoy throwing him off a bridge or six. A quick look to Roman's expression confirmed he was thinking the exact same thing.

At first the movement didn't quite process, Arrogant-Dickwad's heel came down onto Amazon's right forearm, the force causing the bone to crack. He ground his foot down further at Amazon cry, the already broken bone shifting painfully. Tears sprung to her eyes and she could vaguely make out Roman's panicked expression, barely keeping himself from jumping the blonde.

"Oh my" Arrogant-Dickwad gave a look of faux-horror, "That looks _terribly_ painful"

"You sadistic fuck" Roman spluttered, "You're _enjoying_ this"

Arrogant-Dickwad smiled even wider, "Why yes, I am"

Roman snapped.

He lunged, catching Arrogant-Dickwad around the waist and bringing him to the ground with a loud, solid 'thunk'. They tumbled around for a few minutes- Amazon couldn't really tell who was on top- before Roman made a dive for the gun, breaking away from the fight to stand up and steady himself.

Roman held the gun level despite the fact that he was _still wearing cuffs_. He thanked his past-self for moving them in front of him earlier. Unfortunately, where he had a loaded gun, the blond had something much more significant.

Amazon.

By the neck.

A little voice in the back of Roman's head said maybe if she was a little more careful with pissing people off, she wouldn't get choked so often, but it was quickly smothered by the bigger, guiltier part of his mind.

"I'm going to ask you this nicely and _only once_ so listen carefully" Aristocratic-Asshole spoke slowly, clearly beginning to get annoyed with the resistance, "Put the gun down, get on the ground, and I'll consider letting your little girlfriend breathe again". His suit was most certainly not white anymore, more so a mix of dusty brown and some distasteful yellow.

Amazon shook her head as well as she could given her position, a last-ditch effort to say 'Don't be an idiot and try to play Hero'. Roman, of course, ignored it completely. Lowering the gun, he took a casual step forward as one would do before kneeling. Instead of kneeling though, he took another step and- before Aristocratic-Asshole could react- slammed the gun up under his chin, causing him to lose his grip on the redhead and stagger back at the hit.

He wasn't distracted for long though as he quickly stood up and wiped at his chin, smearing the blood there over his hand. He examined it for only a few seconds before laughing slightly and shoving Amazon, hard.

Roman leapt to catch her somewhat-limp body before she fell, leaving time for the blond to make a dash for his car, swinging the door open and sliding in. Roman didn't even bother trying to chase him.

"Well, though this has been _so much fun,_ I'm afraid I've got to dash. Here's to happy hunting each other down". He gave a brief wave and wink before gunning the acceleration, dust flying as the car sped off into the relative distance. Amazon just managed to catch the plate's code, '2CRASS4U'.

Oh.

Of-fucking-course it was him.

No sooner had the sounds of the speeding car dissipated Roman sprinted over to the detective, lying still on the ground.

"Amazon?" Roman half asked, half shouted.

Amazon groaned in response, rolling onto her side and making a vague, "Mmrph" noise she hoped came across as 'I'm still gagged you fucking idiot'. Roman caught on quickly.

"Oh" he breathed out, untying the knot and carefully removing it from the hair it had become tangled with- _after_ Amazon made a pained noise the first time he went to tug at it, though.

Amazon coughed a few times before complaining, "Bleh, that shit tasted nasty". She turned to roll onto her back before wincing at the white-hot pain sparking up her broken arm. She'd forgotten about that.

"That Oedipus _broke_ my arm, my _right_ arm" she exclaimed, as if the fact wasn't obvious. Roman paused, trying to think of what the Hell an 'Oedipus' was.

" _Ooohh_ " he drew the word out as he remembered, "That one Greek guy who screwed his mothe- A literal mother-fucker. Good one". He looked only slightly impressed but it was enough for Amazon.

It was silent for a moment before she spoke again, "I know him. Or-", she added as an afterthought, "-I knew him".

Roman looked up, "You did? Care to elaborate?"

"It's not like I worked with him or anything. I just ran into him a few times. He used to work for the British Special Forces or something equally fancy. I guess they were too clean for him, didn't let him mess around with his targets before killing 'em. He always was a little more brutal than the rest."

Amazon shook her head, "There was this running joke- his name's Crass you see, Richard Crass- we used to say how perfect that name was for him. Guess it still is."

"Yeah" Roman agrees before adding, "And you really need to get to a hospital. Y'know, for your arm"

Amazon gave him 'no shit' glare, "Wow Roman, I totally couldn't tell that already what with the excruciating pain and it being attached to me and shit"

"Aaaaaaand the sarcasm is still present" Roman groaned, "Your radius fails to survive but never fear, your horrid sense of humour remains"

Amazon gave him a suspicious look, "What makes you think you know what bone is broken?"

"Oh, apologies. So you _can_ move your hand?" Roman smirked.

Amazon lifted the cuffs as best as she could with her broken hand. She managed an impressive two inches before deciding against it. "Uh, kinda difficult with the cuffs and whatnot but..." she sighed, "...not really"

Instead of jumping at the chance to make another jab, Roman's face softened, looked somewhat saddened before lighting up again. Amazon only had time to get out a brief 'Oh no, don't, do not-' before he scooped her up, bridal style, and walked over to the control panel, giving an extra kick to the unconscious Sir-Douche-A-Lot who was somehow still around. Huh.

Then again, it wasn't _that_ bad as far as possible transport conditions went. Roman _was_ quite warm, and comfy, and doing a decent job of carrying her with handcuffs. Amazon wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth and if Roman wanted to help, well, who was she to stop him?

"-'re warm" she mumbled against his shoulder.

Roman's laugh sent vibrations down his chest, "Okay"

Yeah, okay.

That's what this was.


End file.
